


Anywhere

by repmetsyrrah



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-26
Updated: 2011-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/repmetsyrrah/pseuds/repmetsyrrah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherever and whenever, Rory knows it'll be okay so long as they're together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lyssie's Hand-kissing Promptathon on LJ. For the prompt, "Doctor Who, Amy/Rory, dance". Turned out a bit more… shippy than I intended :P Also my first ever attempt at Dr Who fic. Be kind.

Rory isn't sure where the Doctor has gone. Right at the moment he isn't sure he cares.

Amy is laughing at him, and he loves it when she laughs.

Of course, she isn't the only one, and perhaps, looking back, there are easier ways to make Amy laugh than making an idiot of himself on the dance floor.

Amy giggles as he falters and trips again, and he feels himself blushing. It isn't his fault, really. At least when they went dancing back home the clubs were loud and dark and all that mattered was the girl in his arms. There were no fancy moves, it was everyone for themselves.

Here, in the brightly lit halls of some castle in medieval England his mistakes were a lot more noticeable. Especially in the high-choreographed dances the nobility apparently learnt from birth but which left poor Rory Williams of Leadworth feeling as if he had two left feet.

Amy is perfectly in step with the ladies of the court though, every step, every dip, every twirl. Even the ridiculously huge period dress she'd found hidden deep in the TARDIS does nothing to slow her down.

Finally, _finally_ the music stops, though thankfully Amy's smiling does not. Everyone faces their partners and bows but Rory doesn't miss the looks he's getting, down the noses of the nobles and courtly ladies who no-doubt think he's some sort of… "commoner" or whatever the insult of the days was… is.

"Amy, Rory!"

The entire room turns just in time to see a strangely dressed man burst through the doors behind the food tables, followed by three guards waving their halberds, and holding something in his arms. A something that was round, glowing and very much not from this time.

"We have to get to the TARDIS," he calls over the heads of the nobles, "it's about to overload!"

He disappears out the door as quickly as he came, still pursued by the guards.

Rory and Amy share a glance before Rory smiles. He raises her hand to his lips and places a kiss upon it like a true gentleman. "So, my lady," he asks, in the most lord-ly voice he can conjure, "shall we?"

Amy grins, "Always."

And they're off again, running, always with the running. But Rory doesn't mind, as long as they're running together he'll go anywhere.


End file.
